


Off The Deep End

by spiderine



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-02
Updated: 2010-06-02
Packaged: 2017-10-09 21:07:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/91629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderine/pseuds/spiderine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xYW64moSLKg">Mermaid Princess!</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Off The Deep End

**Author's Note:**

> For the [Torchwood/Doctor Who Comment!Porn Battle VII](http://cyus.livejournal.com/16711.html), prompts: _water, crossdressing, oral sex_. Beta'd by onebrightroad.

First, Ianto tried using his comm. “Jack, I'm here. Where are you?” Nothing but static, so he called out, “Jack?” His voice echoed off the tiled walls, but got no response. That was when he started to worry.

He pulled his gun from the holster and carefully scanned his surroundings. It was bad enough to have to respond to a comm call that included the phrase, “Come alone,” but to show up and find absolutely no one there, with no sign of a struggle or, indeed, any presence at all made the pit of Ianto's stomach turn over. The eerie flickering light reflecting off the water, the quiet susurration of the filter and the tang of chlorine in the back of his throat didn't help much either.

Then the music started. An arpeggio of flutes and strings swelled up out of nowhere into a full orchestral crescendo. The loud _clack_ of a mechanical switch, sharp over the lush music, made Ianto spin to point his gun at the source of the sound; he followed the intense beam of the spot light to its focus on the highest diving board...

...where stood Jack Harkness in a golden spangled maillot swimsuit and bathing cap, poised on his toes before executing a perfect swan dive into the deep end of the pool.

Ianto sighed, holstered his gun and, not for the first time, had to wonder how one man's life could become so utterly surreal. (Whether he meant Jack's life or his own was a moot point.)

Jack swept through the water, twirling and swooping, arching out and diving deep as smoothly as a dolphin. He rolled to backstroke past Ianto with a wink and a grin, and Ianto knew he was done for when, without bidding, the first thought that came to his mind was, _how can he do that without ruining his makeup?_

Then he idly imagined the result of activating his taser and tossing it into the pool. Jack would kill him for ruining his routine with death by electrocution, but he could always say he was contributing to the special effects...

Jack leapt from the water with a neat splash impeccably timed to a ripple of harps and piccolos, and called out, “Come on in, the water's fine!”

Ianto shut his eyes, pursed his lips and sighed, but, resigned to the inevitable, removed his clothes and folded them neatly on a bench beyond splash range of the water. He sat on the lip of the pool – the cement felt uncomfortably rough on his bare bum – and slipped in to stand chest deep in the water. “I swear to God, Jack,” he called over the music as Jack sidestroked past, “I am going to get you back if it's the last thing I do. You owe me for this, big time.” He crossed his arms and despaired at the impossibility of appearing stern to a man dressed in gold spangles who was doing underwater kick-splits.

Jack swooped up to Ianto in a low arc and tumbled into a handstand. Ianto grabbed his legs and held them upright. He wasn't _deliberately_ going to drown Jack, he promised himself, but even so, it wouldn't be permanent and Jack could use a little lesson in the consequences of pranking –

Then Jack's cool, wet mouth sucked down onto Ianto's cock. “Oh, fuck!” Ianto blurted and flailed back against the lip of the pool, letting go of Jack's legs. All he could do was lean back and pant like a fish out of water as Jack ducked and spun until his feet settled on the bottom of the pool, never once letting Ianto's cock out of his mouth. Ianto hadn't been hard at all – and the water wasn't exactly warm – but he quickly swelled to full erection under the strange sensation of Jack's warm mouth and the cool water sliding over his cock.

Ianto grabbed the sides of Jack's head and floated up to cross his legs behind Jack's neck. The sequins on Jack's back scratched against Ianto's ankles. He thrust into Jack's mouth, grunting under his breath without thinking: “...bastard, you fucking bastard...”

Even as Jack ran his tongue under Ianto's foreskin and into his piss slit, he started gulping and thrashing, trying to get away and rise to the surface for a breath. Ianto held on tightly and bucked forward, stuffing his stiff cock into Jack's mouth, feeling the convulsions of his throat as he struggled for air.

_I could do this_, Ianto thought. _I could keep doing this, I could suffocate you. I could feel you die around my cock_ – and had a flash of an image of Jack, blue and cold, with Ianto's come seeping from his slack lips to float away in the water. He shuddered and groaned, “Oh, God. Oh, fucking God!” and shoved his hips forward, crushing his balls against Jack's lips as he came.

Jack jerked away from him and rose sputtering and panting to the surface. He pulled off his bathing cap, tousled his hair and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. His carmine lipstick was still perfectly in place.

Ianto, still goggle-eyed and gasping and not really thinking about what he was saying, blurted, “What are you using for makeup, spackle?”

Jack grinned and said, “Max Factor, gotta love it!” Then he leered, “So, what do you think of the routine?”

“I think you're bloody mad,” Ianto said. He leaned back against the rim of the pool and tried not to look like someone who got off on suffocating their sex partner.

Jack ran his tongue along his upper lip. “I think you're a bloody tiger. You really know how to push it. You got so into it I didn't want to disappoint you.”

“What?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Don't play innocent, Ianto. Do you really think you could have kept choking me if I really wanted to get away?”

Ianto gave him a sidelong glance and said, “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Jack smirked. “Sure, right.” He leaned in close to Ianto's ear and whispered, “Kinky bastard.”

Ianto thought that he should probably look offended, but instead smacked Jack on his spangled arse and said, “Look who's talking, Esther.”

Jack beamed. “You've heard of Esther Williams?”

It was Ianto's turn to roll his eyes. “Old movies? The Electro?”

“You know, Esther was one hell of a woman,” Jack said. His eyes got a far-away look as he continued, “She could hold her breath for more than two minutes.”

“Oh, now I see what this is all about. So...” Ianto said, his voice dropping into a rough rolling purr, “are we just feeling nostalgic, or are we out to break a record?”

Jack broke out in a smile as bright as a spot light. “Either or, fine with me,” he said. “What about you?You know, if you want to go there again --” he stroked one hand along Ianto's throat – “I've been thinking about your neckties. A lot,” he added with particular emphasis.

Ianto thought carefully for just a moment. Then he leaned forward and kissed Jack on the lips, still shining with Max Factor Waterproof Carmine, and murmured, “Hmmm... how do you feel about stockings and suspenders?”

Jack smiled. “I do a _fabulous_ Bettie Page.”


End file.
